Almost, But Not Quite
by Angela Evil
Summary: This is a collection of concepts, one shots, ect. that I may be convinced to right into full blown stories. So far there is Undertale(Mafiatale AU), Gravity Falls, Blue Exorcist, FMA, Tokyo Ghoul, and Panty&Stocking with Garterbelt. There will be more soon.
1. Changeling (Gravity Falls)

**Gravity Falls story; contains OC, no shipping, T for cartoon violence, concept piece.**

The forest was cool, the chill seeping into my limbs as I crept along. Great crystals ruptured the ground, inundating clearings with pools of purple and blue light. This is my home, it's been my home for a long time. I've seen humans upon occasion but they rarely tread so deep into my domain. My claws leave slight marks in the treebark as I pass, letting other creatures know my borders. These two however, don't heed the warning. I've been following them for a while now, a boy and a girl, brother and sister. They're unafraid. It's strange.

I want to talk to them. I am afraid. It's strange.

"This is where I found that size changing crystal," the boy spoke, enthusiasm in his voice. His companion giggled and I liked the sound. She went bounding ahead under the shadowy boughs, coaxing her brother on faster. He puffed along behind her, clearly not as athletic. I felt sorry for him.

Darting behind rocks and trunks, I continued to pursue them. My curiosity winning out over good sense, but they were just so interesting; never had I seen humans in this clearing, especially not those willing to return. I want to talk to them but I'm afraid.

They stop and so do I, paralyzed, peering around a tree. I look at their hides, slightly pink and wrinkly in the places where they bend. My own hands, covered in well kept, shiny, black scales, look very much like theirs, only larger and a little more square. The bioluminescent veins, visible through overlaps, give my whole body a healthy dark purple glow. I know that I'm fit enough to change, but… can I really be like them? Though I've done this many times, never have I been so nervous. The brother has a book will all kinds of new things written in it, maybe I could learn what I am. I just have to talk to them.

Ever scale on my body lifts, folding in on myself, sculpting my physical appearance into a human one until not a hint of 'me' shows anywhere. The extra plates I've knit into clothes; humans wear clothes. It'd be weird if I didn't have any, right? Yes, of course it would. I can do this; I look human. Just go up and say something, introduce yourself, make a friend. Oh please, make a friend.

I coerce my feet into moving, pushing the brush aside, steady on ahead. They turn to face me, likely startled by my sudden appearance. Quick say something normal! "I- um… hi," I wave lamely, uncertainty and insecurity bubbling in my gut, "I'm Lee, nice to meet you."

"Uh, hi Lee…" the boy spoke, slipping his book back into his vest. He looked as nervous as I felt, sending one glance and then another to his sister. She shared his expression.

I need to do something, common, be normal. "So, uh, what are you two doing out here in the middle of the woods?"

"We're looking for… something that lives near here, an animal that's supposed to be super rare. Oh, whoops! Silly me, I didn't introduce us, did I? I'm Mabel and this grumpy guess is Dipper." Her voice calmed my racing heart at least. She seems pleasant. I like her.

"Mabel!"

"What?"

They squabble for a moment, turning their backs to me hunching over slightly, like that would prevent me from hearing anything. "What do you think you're doing, telling him? We don't know what he is!"

"Oh come on, Dipster, we don't know he's _not_ normal."

"Look, between the gnomes and the merman I'd rather not chance that 'Lee' is human, okay?"

"Jus' give him a chance, bro bro. Besides he's, like, super hot."

"Ugh." He placed a palm on his face. What kind of expression is that? Palmface? What did it mean exactly?

Curious I edge a little closer and whisper, "You do know I can hear everything you're saying, right?"

The brother, Dipper, shot up in embarrassment, his face had turned red around the cheeks. Mabel laughed again and I decided that I really did love that sound. "Oh- I… um. Well," he spluttered, his sister laughing to hard to help him regain composure.

"Y'know," I just want a friend, really there's no need to panic, "it gets dark in these parts quick. Do you maybe want to stay over for the night? I've got plenty of space at home -that is i-if you want to stay at all!" I dropped my gaze, unsure if my eyes had started glowing in chagrin, and scratched at the back of my neck. People did that too, right? Right. People did both of those things when nervous or embarrassed. I'm still acting normal. You got this, you got this.

"I-I don't kno-"

"Okay!"

My eyes shot up to Mabel's beaming face, her tiny warm hands wrapped around one of mine. The physical contact wasn't something I could foresee. It took a lot of effort just to force my scales to lay flat. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. Her grin was infections and soon wormed its way onto my face as well.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Dipper dead panned.

"Come with me," I said, giving her hands a slight squeeze. My strength far out classed a human's so I had to be mindful of how much pressure I applied to her wrist. She let me guide her through the woods, her brother shuffling along behind. The grin never left my face the whole way home.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I'm proud of my cave. It's large and spacious. The depth provides more than enough protection from the elements; wind and rain never make it far in because the passage slopes up. I dug the tunnels and most of the rooms with my own claws, decorating the walls with swirls and sigils that I don't quite understand, but I know it's the language of my kin. Dipper is particularly interested in those when he walks in. Mabel gasped a "You live in a cave?" as I replaced the wooden slab I use as a door.

"Y-yeah. But don't let that fool you, it's plenty homey. I prefer nature to television anyway." Nailed it!

"Oh? That's so cool! Y'know I'm more into nature myself," she bombasted, stepping closer. I wasn't sure why, it was making me uncomfortable.

"Lee, did you find this cave or perhaps… put these marks here yourself?"

Crap. I laugh, hoping it doesn't sound to nervous, "And how would I do that? With the wolverine claws I don't have? You've got quite an imagination, don't 'cha?"

"Oh, don't listen to him, Lee bee- can I call you Lee bee?- Dipper's just paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if someone's out to get you Mabes, and there is. Bill's still after us for foiling his plans earlier."

"Who's Bill?" It's an honest question, and I think fair. I did invite them into my home after all, I'd like to know if I should be expecting unwelcome guests in the near future.

"No one."

Gee, that's helpful Dipper. Not giving me a chance to prepare for who knows what. He's the kind that bottles everything up, isn't he? Mabel on the other hand was being a bit _to_ expressive. Of course, I've never had a conversation with a human that lasted more than fifteen minutes so this is a milestone, but… her behavior seemed odd, even in the limited knowledge I had.

" _Okay_ ," I let the word out slowly, "do you guys want anything to eat? I've got berries, some fruit, or if you'ld like something a little more snack like, there's chips." I do my best shrug, trying to be casual about this is really hard. I'm fairly certain my hands would be clammy if I had sweat glands.

They exchanged a look, Dipper's untrusting and Mabel's… I don't know, was she nauseous or something? I blinked a few times, trying to get a hang of how human eyes worked. Eyelids are so weird. It was only then that I realized we we're just standing around in the entrance. Copying Dipper's earlier gesture, with the adjustment of palming my forehead instead of my nose, I groaned slightly. "Ugh, wow. It's been too long since I've had guests. Common in." I hope that if I walk past them briskly enough they'd forget how awkward that sounded.

The first ovular room in my nest was the human equivalent to a living room. I'd been able to find comfortable mosses, impossibly large mushrooms, and a single discarded, only slightly stained armchair to play the part of furnisher slouching around the edges. Posters that I found visually interesting dotted the walls; there was even an abstract painting. Short tunnels that lead to the other four chambers were voids interspersed along the walls equidistant from each other as well, each about two feet of the ground and a foot and a half in diameter. A tight fit, I know, but something about my scales scraping against stone felt nice.

"Make yourselves at home," I called over my shoulder. Clambering up into my kitchen tunnel. All of the passages in my home have hand and foot holds. They too sloped upward but this one was practically vertical. Digging it this way had been a pain but necessary if I wanted to do any cooking at all; didn't want to smoke myself out of my own home, now did I?

I'd collected jars, hollowed out gourds, and other objects to use as bowls and the like. storing anything that was edible in them with the only exception being things like chips or candy bags. My visitor looked to be about my age so I just guessed that they'd like something on the sweet side. The kitchen itself wasn't that large but very tall, a six by twelve foot cylinder, with all manner to food stored in alcoves half way up to the sealing. I also kept any herbs for medicine in here, it was the only place to put things in after all.

I was picking out some strawberries when I caught the muffled sound of conversation coming up from below. Dipper sounded hushed and panicked, though I couldn't make out what he was saying. Mabel's voice seemed calm, but it had a hint of sternness to it, like she was scolding someone. It would probably be best to go back down, they might figure something out if I leave them alone for too long.

 ***POV**

"I'm telling you Mabel all those symbols are in my journal! Did you see the way he blinked? Eyelids moving all out of sync… that's not human."

"Maybe, Lee bee isn't the most normal human, but why do you got to go accusing him of being a monster. That's not right, bro bro."

I groaned in exasperation, she just wasn't getting it. Great Uncle Ford's journals had nearly all the supernatural mysteries of Gravity Fall recorded on their pages, and this was one of them. One of the more dangerous ones, anyway. I sighed and placed the book on the stone floor so Mabel could see too, "Here look at this." Mabel knelt down next to me and I read the passage allowed.

"It is my belief that there is more than one type of shapeshifter living in Gravity Falls. When I was in the deepest parts of the forest looking for the source of the size anomaly (see page 152) I felt the eyes of something on me the whole time. Upon occasion I would catch a deep purple glow out of the corner of my eye only for it to vanish when I turned to see what it was. I investigated further and found chipped black scales that had the unique ability to bend light and flex in impossible angles. The more I tested these scales the more I discovered about their inherent ability to change form. This creature, whatever it is could be anything or anyone in theory. Until I can get more data about it, I will call it a Changeling. Be on the lookout for a purple glow around a dark shadow."

A sketch next to the paragraph showed a tall, thin, vaguely female figure surrounded by a purple aura, with white, probably glowing eyes, and a gaping smile curving up to where her ears would be. This was the thing we were looking for. Great Uncle Ford needed more scales for the Anti-Bill barrier around the shack. He'd given me a sonic gun that should disrupt a Changeling's ability to transform, reverting them back to their original shape. Hopefully it would startle them enough into giving up.

Mabel stood up and huffed, "So you think that he's a Changeling, Dipper? Seriously? Why does every guy I like _have_ to be some kind of weirdo or something? Don't you want me to be happy?!" I hate it when she shouts at me. It's unfair, I know, but this isn't right. Lee… he's not human. It's just a feeling and I need more proof but when have my gut feelings ever been wrong before. The gnomes don't count, they were still something bad, just not what I thought at first.

"Hey guys! I'm back." The overly cheery voice of our host startled me. I scrambled to grab the journal and hide it, whipping around to face him. Mabel was right about him looking human, aside from the white hair thing. It could just be really platinum blonde but it didn't seem like it. His pale hand was wrapped around a bag of chips, the handle of an old halloween pumpkin clenched in his admittedly normal looking teeth. The shift of his dark clothes didn't quite sound right to me either, but that was nit picking.

Lee jumped out of the tunnel, the metal chain on his black denim jeans clinked against the stone, and again I found myself thinking about how it didn't sound like metal or even plastic. The noise was more organic and muted than it should have been. I realized I'd been staring when Lee fixed his colorless eyes on me. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice a little higher than before. He coughed and cleared his throat, and I could swear his blush was a shade purple. How did Mabel not see it? It was so obvious!

"Yeah I'm fine." My reply was even thankfully, not hinting my suspicions to the other boy.

"Okay." He seemed to perk up a bit, it was weird. Lee placed what he'd been carrying on the ground and bounded over to a painting. Lifting it off wall revealed an alcove with a safe inside. With a few spins Lee twisted the handle and swung the door open. From what I could see, it was filled with all kinds of random junk, little to no value in anything. Lee grabbed something I couldn't make out and carefully replaced the painting over the safe's now shut door.

He approached us with a tiny laptop and a DVD case, grinning. Mabel got all excited and I rolled my eyes at her obliviousness. She was going to get her heart broken again, take it out on me, apologize, and then I'd have to comfort her. I was getting real sick of this routine, but it was better than a lot of alternatives so I'll just have to deal with it.

\/\/\/\/\/

It was only about five at night when the movie finished, that whole it gets dark fast was rubbish, especially in the middle of the summer. Lee had fallen asleep against a giant mushroom and Mabel had stopped watching the movie half an hour ago in favor of staring at him. I rolled my eyes again. It felt like I was doing that a lot lately.

Feeling boredom and a growing sense of urgency gnawing at me, I took out Great Uncle Ford's sonic gun and began toying with the settings. At lower frequencies it was incredibly annoying but as I clicked the pitch up Lee visibly flinched in his sleep. Admittedly curiosity got the best of me and Mabel soon noticed my testing. At first I thought she was going to tell me to turn it off, instead she wanted to try.

Once the gun was out of my hands, Mabel cranked it all the way up and depressed the trigger. Lee shot off the mushroom, screaming in pain, desperately clapping his hands over his ears. "Turn it off! Turn it off!"

"Oh my gosh, Lee bee, I'm sorry! I-"

I took one look at Lee and knew exactly why Mabel had stopped talking. He looked almost like a porcupine with long, jagged-looking, black scales standing on end. As they folded back into place it wasn't a young boy, but a strange shadowy creature surrounded in a purple aura.

Lee lowered his hands and stared in horror at them. He wasn't the only one though. Each of his fingers had a claw on the end that looked like it could easily eviscerate someone, and I really didn't want it to be me.

"I told you he wasn't human."

"Dipper!" Mabel looked upset, though I just couldn't figure out why.

"What?"

Lee stood up, drawing my eyes back. Despite his flat feature, he still was expressive, and that was the terrifying part. "W-what did you do to me?" panic edged his voice, which now echoed ethereal, "I-I can't change! I-I!" He began pawing at his scales pulling them up and trying to fold them over. It was equally gross as it was fascinating. An acidic purple fluid oozed around the base of the scales and Lee hissed in pain. It makes sense if that was some kind of blood or something.

I took the sonic gun out of Mabel's hand before pulling her behind me. "So, what was your intention for bringing us here?"

"What?" Lee snarled, sounding incredulous. "I just wanted a friend, gods."

"O-oh." Well now I feel like a jerk.

Mabel broke contact with me and ran over to Lee, kneeling down next to his self inflicted injury. He growled at her when she tried to touch him. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know this would happen."

"That rare animal you were hunting… is it me?"

"Yes," I have no idea why I answered that.

"Why?"

"We need some scales to create a protective ward around the Mystery Shack." Again why am I saying all of this? I glanced over at Mabel and she gave me a sad look; it felt like I was sharing the same expression. "May we please have some?"

Lee glared at me and I shifted nervously. He heaved a sigh and ripped out the scales he tried to manually flip. I flinched at the sound. The slits of his nose flared open as he let out a long breath, "Here, take it and leave."

I stooped down to pick up the scales and Mabel moved over next to me. "I'm sorry Lee," I muttered, he waved off my voice, turning away. "If it's any consolation the effects shouldn't be permanent."

"Just… leave already." Lee dipped into one of the other smaller tunnels leaving a smear of glowing purple blood behind him.

I turned and made my way towards the wooden slab, Mabel on my heels. She was quite the whole way back to the Shack, and so was I. I'd only just met the guy, he wasn't even human, but he'd been kind. I wasn't even the one who pulled the trigger and I still felt awful. Mabel must feel worse.

We don't say anything when I pass the scales over to Grunkle Ford. He just nods at me.


	2. A Slice of Anarchy (Panty and Stocking)

**Rated T, Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt concept piece. AU where Brief is aware he's the Hell's Monkey descendant.**

* * *

Ever since Briefers Rock was young, he'd had a silver spoon in his mouth. That consequently came with strings attached. One such string happened to be his bloodline, the Hell's Monkey bloodline to be precise, not that he'd really understood what that meant. All he really cared about was this girl. He'd only seen her once or twice but it wasn't just her looks that he'd found attractive. She was a mystery for the young man that he'd found infuriating to solve.

Any records about her only dated back a year or so, like she and her sister just popped out of the ground somewhere. He drummed his fingers on the Corinthian leather chair in his father's old study, not that Mr. Rock came in here anymore, it's just that Briefers still thought of this space that way.

One of the butlers walked in calmly with a silver tray adorned with sweets and ice-tea, a letter with his father's seal placed gently under the tea cup. The butler placed the tray on a side table next to him and bowed out, leaving Briefs once again alone to contemplate the mystery girl.

With palpable disinterest, Briefs read the letter from his father; "Dear son, it has come to my attention that you're now eighteen years old- no duh dad- and I feel it is a necessary time for celebration. We, your mother and I, -I think you mean stepmom- have taken steps and are throwing you a ball. -Great- Though I'm not sure what those low class pigs you think are your friends are like, I've included two invitations for you to give whomever you please. -Huh, that's actually considerate of them. Does dad have a fever or something- Please inform them that this is a formal event, all details will be on the invitations. Jeeves will mail them for you."

Briefs placed the letter back upon the tray and sucked in a steadying breath. This couldn't be happening, his father was actually giving him breathing room, letting him make a decision for himself! The young man pinched his arm, flinched, and decided that he really wasn't dreaming after all.

A broad grin pulled over his face and he swept his bangs back. This was going to be his chance to talk with her, get to know her. Who knows, maybe even hang out with her. "Jeeves!" he shouted, knowing that the butler was just on the other side of the door.

"Yes, young master."

"Those invitations my father gave me," he let his hair fall into his face again and picked up the ice tea, "send them to a Miss Panty and Stocking Anarchy at the Church on Hilltop Rd."

"Yes, sir. Will that be all, sir?"

Briefs paused for a moment, swirling the tea in his cup. "Send a gift with it, some sweets and something very spice, but don't go overboard on the price."

"Middle class, sir."

"Middle class."

"Yes, sir." Jeeves bowed again and left, the large double doors booming shut behind him. He stared into his cup, took a few sips, and then returned it to the tray. His gaze traveled over the familiar red room with it's persian carpets, mahogany paneled book shelves, large bay windows draped with gold curtains, and the large exotic fish tank on the wall opposite the fireplace. Briefs stood, walking over to the tank. The shiny scaled angel fish darted about obscuring what little could be made of the room beyond. It was a smaller space with tables and chairs, that were all doubtless expensive, designed to keep father's business guests entertained while he finished whatever he was doing.

Despite how anxious he was feeling, watching the delicate little fish dart around soothed Briefs, it was nice. His tranquility was broken by a knock on the door. "Come in," he called, checking the hour on his wrist watch. It was time for his combat lessons unfortunately.

"Thank you." the Demon sisters spoke in unison, they were adressing the servant who took their coats.

Briefs sighed, this wasn't going to be pleasant. "Good afternoon, Scanty, Kneesocks." He dragged a hand through his hair, pulling it out of his face before looking over his shoulder. The way they respected him here but not at school was comical, like they couldn't recognize him even with just a change of hair style.

Kneesocks took a few steps forward into the room, Scanty lingering at the door. "Shall we get started then?"

"No." Briefs spoke with a calm authority he'd never really used anywhere else. He folded both hands behind his back and returned to his consideration of the fish.

"N-No?" The demon sister had already hooked her fingers under the elastic of her socks. She seemed nervous which he thought odd.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" He turned to look at the red skinned woman again, glaring. She actually blanched, dropping her leg and bowing at the waist before sputtering apologies. "Enough! I don't want to hear it." Briefs pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate his onsetting headache. "Sit," he gestured dismissively to the two chairs, one of which he'd been seated in earlier.

The sisters immediately obeyed, little beads of sweat dapling their foreheads. When he glanced back at his refection in the fish tank the young redhead figured why they were afraid. His vibrant blue eyes were glowing slightly and his pupils had contracted into slits. He took a few calming breaths, watching his features return to their natural, human state. _I didn't realize I'd been that annoyed, or maybe it's because I'm nervous about the Ball, hmm._

The descendant walked slowly and calmly over to the chairs, before beginning in a gentle tone, "Have you girls heard about the Ball Father is throwing?"

They visibly relaxed, Scanty going so far as to let out the breath she'd been holding, "No, we were not informed." She spoke slowly, caution hinting in her felfire eyes.

"No?" he glanced from one sister to the next, "You'll be getting an invitation soon then, along with Mr. Mayor I'm sure. It doesn't seem like Father not to invite as many powerful political figures as possible."

"If I may be so bold," Kneesocks leaned forward in her chair slightly, "why are you telling us this?"

Briefs smiled, a cold and sadistic smile. He'd learned how to be a good actor when it really counted. "Because, their is to be no fighting of _any sort_ , not even if your father orders you to. Understood?"

"Y-yes," both sisters squeaked.

"Good, now," he cracked his neck left than right, "where were we?"

XX

Scanty and Kneesocks were a battered mess when he finally stopped, dropping the sisters into a heap on top of eachother. Briefs was breathing heavily too, but instead of feeling drained he felt powerful, exhilarated, and in need of a sandwich.

He calmly lifted his dress shirt from where it had fallen and replaced the fabric over his shoulders, wincing slightly as the claw marks along his back stitched shut. The sword he'd summoned dispersed into a cloud of mist. It reminded him of food coloring in water, except it was just black and dark green.

As he made his way through the expansive manor halls, Briefs mused about how much stronger he'd become overnight. It seems like turning eighteen really had done something in the way of his powers but they'd not been fully awakened yet. He needed a kiss from an angel for that but honestly where was he going to find one of those?


	3. 110 Percent (FMA)

**FMA, Ed Elric travel the world in search of the secrets of Alchemy, however, while his brother was welcomed in Xing, Ed was imprisoned as an Amestrian Spy in Crete. There in the deepest dungeon he discovers a power long lost to the world. Concept piece.**

Chains dug into his skin and the young alchemist found himself missing his metal arm. The now flesh and blood limb was secured to a broken pillar in the center of the small cobblestone chamber by a short rope, his wrist fastened together with manacles. He had tried, several times, to cut the rope but the human-height stone had been worn smooth from the hundreds of other prisoners who doubtlessly tried the same. Edward Elric heaved a sigh, pressing his forehead to the polished surface. _If I still had my alchemy I wouldn't be in this mess to begin with_ , he thought bitterly.

His mind wandered to his younger brother, however his concern for Alphonse wasn't as great as the concern for himself at the moment. Ed still worried about the other golden eyed boy but at least Al could still use alchemy. Ling was also with him… and that annoying little princes. He was probably welcomed in Xing.

Ed shifted only to wince at his stiff back; he had been kept in a kneeling position for who knows how many days now. Long enough that the wounds along his shoulders and spine had healed at least. The skin felt taut and stiff, so he was most likely scared. They had flogged him, tortured him, all in an attempt to get Amestrian Military secrets. It was fortunate, at least, that Crete's administration was desperate for information. Whenever he survived a "session" his personal "administer" would clean the bloody streaks. They wouldn't want him dying of an infection.

Another upshot to his situation was the relatively clean conditions of his cell. Aside from the bloodstains dapling the stone, there wasn't any filth to speak of. He was even allowed to stretch and use a chamberpot once a day, normally before they beat him.

Ed laughed bitterly to no one, _I've been here so long that I've become complacent, hu? This isn't how I thought things would turn out._

Ed squeezed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath. " _You'd better come home, okay? I won't forgive you if let someone else repair your automail! Don't you dare get hurt; your to h-handsom to have scars!"_ The familiar voice of memory touched his mind.

"Oh, Winry… I'm sorry." He smiled mirthlessly into his shoulder before looking up at his withered hands. For some reason they had let him keep the little iron band on his left ring finger.

The cell's heavy wooden door creaked open, sending washes of torchlight across the stone behind him. The figure's shadow fell over his back and cast up against the pillar. A chilling laugh rolled over into Ed's ears. "Ha~, Good morning, Amerstian dog. Just how are we feeling then."

"Stiff," he fought to retain neutrality in his voice.

"You know, I don't understand you, goldie," this sick man had a habit of giving his victims pet names, "we'd both save a lot of time and effort if you'd spill it. Do you really love your country that much?"

"I don't." His tormentor stood so close that Ed could smell the rancid breath pluming out from between rotted teeth. "I love my comrades, I love my family, and I love my wife."

"You're married? Well then," a shaving blade was placed against Ed's neck, the dungeon master's hand pulled his head back, "you'll just have to tell me where she lives so I can send her husband's head home."

"Kriegen," a new voice spoke from the doorway, "we need the Full Metal Alchemist alive, or did you forget that?"

"Erg, uh, y-yes sir." The blade was removed and Ed's hair released. He tried desperately, craining his head back, to see who was behind him. Whoever it was, they had moved into the room coming up to his left side.

"Please forgive the intrusion on your freetime, however today we'll be employing a different method. You seem to have an unshakable will and that is a very good thing, Mr. Elric." The speaker was a man in his late thirties, dusty grey hair, glasses that obscured his eyes, a broad, unsettling grin. He was dressed like a scientist or medical professional. Ed didn't doubt that he wasn't sane. "Ah, where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself. I'm Dr. Joseph Schmidt, director of supernatural affairs. My job is to manage everything deemed too dangerous for public consumption, from artifacts to ancient knowledge. The Philosopher's stone has been of particular interest to my constituents and I. We were hoping that you would be able to share at least that much with us, as one scientist to another."

"You're better off killing yourself that trying to create a philosopher's stone."

"That's too bad, I was hop-"

"And what do you mean by supernatural? There isn't anything like that in the world."

A terrifying leer spread over the doctor's face. He snapped his fingers twice and Kriegen handed him a sword case. "This, my ignorant young friend, is Blue Swordsman's blade. It posses a few interesting qualities that I'd like for you to _study_. This is honestly our last ditch effort to break you. You see, this blade has the unique ability to drive anyone who looks at it mad; if your mind holds out, your will shall break first. Hopefully once this treatment has been administered, you'll feel much more... _cooperative_."

With that he flipped open the case and placed the sheathed sword atop the pillar. The doctor and dungeon master left, door booming shut behind them. It only just hit Ed that his rope had been untied and his leg shrieked in pained joy at being allowed to flex. He paced around the edge of the cell, getting a better feel for his space. For the first time he noticed graffiti, strange symbols, all in some other language, carved into the walls. Only the words "Blue Swordsman" were legible, chiseled repeatedly; there was even small traces of blood left in the etching, like someone had worn the fingernails to the quick, desperate to get the symbols down.

His eyes were drawn to the source of the enigma, the sword. It looked almost to be of Xingese make. The sheath was a dark bluish-purple and very simple in design. It didn't look like anything that could cause visual or auditory hallucinations.

Out of an insatiable curiosity, Ed reached up and griped the handle. A impossible burning agony ripped through his skull, forcing him to his knees. His hands had a chokehold on the hilt. He could feel his limbs rotting, he could see it crawling up his arms from the sword. In a panic Ed threw the cursed object away, the hilt skittering across the floor, blade sliding out half an inch. Everything stopped immediately and he was left panting heavily, staring at his perfectly normal hands.

"W-What the hell was _that_?" He rubbed his hands together and felt up his arms. They were in the their normal condition.

"Well that was rude." Ed's eyes widened as he wheeled around looking for the source of the voice. "Over here asshole, lying on the ground where you threw me…"

Ed's eyes fixed pointedly on the blade. Light reflected from the metal giving it the semblance of glowing with sulfuric flames. "A talking sword?" His disbelief was palpable. _I must be losing my mind. Those years of being locked in here have finally caught up with me._

"Sword? I take offence to that! I'm a demon got it?!"

 _No, there's a logical explanation for this…_ "A soul bound to a metal object, just like Al used to be," it clicked so well and Ed grasped at it, desperate from some sense, "or those twins guarding the secret lab. Ha! That Schmidt guy had me going there for a second. Nothing supernatural about a blood seal."

"You really are a dumbass aren't you. I told you, I'm a demon."

"Hu?" Ed actually had been so lost in thought he'd not heard the sword- er, 'demon' the first time.

"Oh I swear to the gods!" The sword began rattling violently before sliding free of the sheath. Overwhelming heat poured into the room and the air became stifling. Blue flames curled over the blade's surface, refracting off the stone at odd angles. The inferno ran down the blade, drifting over the hilt, and condensed into a humanoid shape, lounging on the floor. "Are you just going to sit there gawking, or are you going to take responsibility for waking me up?"

"Responsibility?"

"Yes," somehow the fire sounded exasperated, "become the vessel for my power, and serve as my new body in exchange for my strength and nigh invincibility."

"What? No!" _What Am I doing? This isn't sane! Think Ed, think. Is it possible that this guy is something like the homunculus?_

"Then you should have thought of that before picking up my blade. Honestly, I've been around for centuries, you'd think that at least _one person_ would know the laws of demon contracting by now."

"I don't believe you're a demon." The blue fireball just stared at him, or at least Ed thought it was staring.

"That's it!" it suddenly roared, "I thought an alchemist would make a good host but not this! I don't give a damn about escaping anymore! I've had it! Screw this, I'm going back to sleep until some who actually appreciates my god like power show up."

"W-wait! Back up a second, you said something about escaping?"

"Yeah, so?"

"If you're so powerful then why don't you just escape on your own? I mean, a demon should just be able to leave on their own, right?"

The fire groaned. "I'm so sick of humans," it muttered, crossing its' 'legs' and placing a ethereal hand up to its' flickering face. "I would leave, but as you can see, I'm stuck in a _fucking_ _sword_. This is what I have to work with," it tapped the metal, sparks shooting up with the contact, "without someone to swing my blade around I'm just short of useless. It's pathetic to have to rely on a human but this is my situation."

"W-when you say you want to use my body, is it anything like-"

"Greed and Ling? Yes, more or less."

"How did you know that?"

"When you picked me up I tried to sync up with you, part of that entails 'knowing your soul.' In other words, your memories are an open book to me."

"C-can I still maintain control of myself?"

The 'demon' was quiet for a long time, "I suppose that wouldn't be a problem, so long as you don't fight me when I need to take over. You can't use alchemy anymore, right?" It tilted its' head to the side, "At least, not the way you used to…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Alchemy has a lot of secrets but it isn't the end all be all of power, kid." Ed glared at the insinuation. "While it's passable, it's not ideal."

"Passable for what exactly?"

"Wow, you have a lot of stupid questions. Magic, specifically demonic magic." The flames pointed at the runic symbols carved into the walls. "These are runes. They function similarly to your alchemical circles, only they're not so much symbols as letters."

Ed paced over to the wall and traced his fingers over the carvings, curiosity gnawing at him. "A language? Magic? Demons?" He sighed, shifting his gaze back to the sword, "Well, it's not the craziest thing that I've ever heard but…"

"You still don't think I'm real?"

The blonde nodded.

"Fine, I'll teach you demon magic, but in return you will wield me. Then we'll escape this prison together."

Ed looked at his hand, if he could endure that pain, the insanity, even just for a short time, he could get out of Crete. He might be able to get all the way home even. Was it a risk he'd be willing to take. The fire glinted off his wedding band. "Yes. If it's just to escape from Crete, I'll do it."

Something like a jagade smile flickered in its' features. "Good, and this time, don't throw me across the room. Black out if you have to, just don't let go." Ed did as instructed, walking over and gripping the sword hilt like his life depended on it, the agony pouring into his mind, body, and soul. "Edward Elric," the voice was more in his head than anything, ringing like a gong in his ears, "you may call me Ao."

\\\\\

Edward groaned. Everything hurt. "What happened?" he muttered, lifting a shaking hand to his face. Gravity hit him like a ton of bricks sending him to the rocky ground. Ao's sheath was clenched in a vise grip, blood dapling the fabric. "Ao?"

"Yes?" His new companion's voice echoed in his mind.

"What. Happened." He wished he could have sounded a bit more upset but exhaustion was setting in.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that… a lot of bodies. So, the usual."

"What!" Ed forced himself onto his elbows to glare at the 'demon' sword. He was still having trouble swallowing that even after everything.

He heard a sigh rumble through his skull, an unsettling feeling to say the least. "For the record I was _trying_ to sneak out; I blame your metal leg, which is in needs of repair by the way."

"What did you do to my leg?" Ed's voice was incredulous, energy returning to him every second the irritating weapon spoke.

" _I_ didn't do anything, it was a guardsman, he shot you in the leg. May I get back to the daring escape, then?"

He dropped his face onto the back of his right hand, groaning into the ground, "Sure."

"Before I lost the stealth advantage, I took the opportunity to destroy any documents detailing your capture and stay in Crete's prison system. Your welcome, by the way. As a more personal matter, I tortured that Kriegen guy, he could deal it but not take it. Next I visited Joseph, ran him through quickly, though I would have loved to do drag out the vengeance, and collected information that you might find interesting. There were notes on the Philosopher's stone research that I burned, too."

"Thanks for that."

"You're welcome." A pause stretched into awkward levels before the blade spoke again, "Try to sleep it off; possession will become easier with time. I'll teach you secrets about 'alchemy' once you can stay conscious while wielding my blade."

"That was something I'd been meaning to ask you about."

"Get some sleep, Ed. You're going to need it."

"But-"

"I'm serious," it felt like someone was pressing their full weight down on his throat. Ed's lungs screamed for air as Ao uttered his final order, "Sleep."

\\\\\

When Ed blinked awake again he was in a small cottage bedroom. There was a cot underneath him that was little more than broad planks of wood and hides. He'd almost forgotten what it was like sleeping on his back; the alien feeling of a sheet over his legs and chest wasn't very comfortable. As Ed tried to sit up the door swung open revealing a small, brown haired girl no older than ten, carrying a tray of bread and medical supplies. She gasped, dropping the tray, and pounded away down the hall, calling for her mother.

Ed just stared at the doorway for a long while, unable to feel much of any emotion. There was an empty numbness in his body and soul that unsettled him to no end. He checked himself, covered in cuts and bruises that had all been tended to. His torso was bare and similarly dappled with wounds and bandages. Thankfully he'd been given a fresh pair of pants, lying next to the cot in a woven basket.

He swung his legs out from the sheets and stared at the damaged automail. He could feel a dull ache coming on as his fingers traced the built holes. Two armor piercing rounds had gone clean through the prosthetic, and whether by fortune or ineptitude the hydraulics were still functioning, though walking would be very difficult. Ed almost laughed at the thought of what Winry would do to him when he got home.

Several large drops of water fell on his hand, rolling down onto his automail and then falling to the floor. He lifted his other hand to touch his face, moist from tears. It took Ed a moment to realize he was crying. "Winry…"

Emotions washed through him in rapid succession, joy, sorrow, guilt, anger, fear, and hope. They condensed into a storm cloud, hovering in the back of his mind. His mind… "Ao?" Ed looked around, panic thrusting itself in the forefront of his thoughts; there was a paranoia clawing at his stomach as he forced himself to stand. _Why am I worried about him?_ "Because he's just like Al… after…" Ed shook his head. No, Ao was nothing like his brother, it would be more accurate to compare him to Greed.

The door was pushed fully open, snapping Ed from his consideration and worry. A strong female voice demanded he lie back down. "Do you have a death wish! You're in no condition to be walking around!" Still stunned, Ed allowed himself to be laid back down on the cot. The little girl from earlier help her mother adjust him so that he was sitting up. "Here," her mother offered him the bread, and Ed took it. Her hands were large and calloused from hard work, like a cook or other maid position. His new caretaker looked the part as well, dressed in poor garb, her darker brown hair was pulled up into a bun and pinned by a bonnet of some kind. She wiped her hands on the apron hanging around her waist before pressing it to his forehead. "The fever has gone down at least; hurry up and eat."

Ed munched on the small loaf for a moment, it was far more appetizing that what he'd experienced in prison, but still had the taste of army rations. He only realized how fast he'd eaten when he licked some crumbs out of the corner of his mouth. "Where am I?" the question came out before he could temper it. _What is wrong with me? I'm not myself today._

"You're in my cottage; I'm Laila and this is my daughter, Issica. We work at Lord Dunman's estate. The Master found you lying on a game trail on the edge on his lands. He instructed me to care are for you until you were able to explain yourself." She crossed her arms and gave him a serious look, like he was a little boy who she'd caught stealing from her kitchen. "Now that I've introduced us perhaps you'd do the same."

"Elric, Edward Elric. I'm… not from around here."

"Mind telling me why you have a Creteian prison brand?"

"I came here from Amestris to do research on alchemy and I was falsely imprisoned on fabricated charges."

Laila nodded as if that was a common occurrence. "Something similar happened with my husband."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Edward, you didn't know. But Amestris… I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but… That land is to the East of us, on the other side of Crete."

Ed dropped his gaze to the sheets and clenched his fists. Ao had probably led him over the nearest border, in the opposite direction of where he needed to go. Brilliant.

"Did I have a sword when you found me?"

"Ah, yes. It's in the mansion armory."

"I see."

The mother walked towards the door, guiding her daughter by the shoulder. "We'll let you get some rest now."

 ***POV**

Winry paced, wringing her hands in anxiety. Her hair kept falling into her face, unkept from the late hour. The doctor had arrived and was currently in her son's room. She just couldn't keep it together when she found out how sick he was. "That boy will worry me to death," he'd been keeping it all in, not wanting to let her know that he was ill. He'd collapsed taking his dishes into the kitchen yesterday morning. "I can't lose him," Winry's legs gave out and she slid into a bench, looking up at the moon through the hall window, "Oh, Ed, what should I do?"

"Mr. Elric?" The doctor had come out of her son's room with a grim look. Ice clung to her veins and she was shaking. "The boy is stable but… it doesn't look good. From what I can tell his illness will claim him in three months… or sooner."

"No," it was barely more than a whisper, "No, he's only five, doctor! He's my little boy! I-I-"

"Mama," the weak voice of Winry's child cut her off. He looked feverish and pale, shaking slightly from chills, but despite his physical weakness his golden eyes were glowing with strength and determination. "It's okay. I'm not going to leave you."

She rushed to him, scooping his diminutive form in her arms, and cradling him. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to be stern and tender, "You're too sick to be out of bed. Common, I'll tuck you in and tell you one of your favorite stories."

"The one about the golden-eyed alchemist?"

"Yes." She sniffled, trying to clear her nose. " Thank you, doctor."

The older man lifted a hand sending away her thanks, "You've been supplying Automail for my patients for so long now; this won't cost you anything. I'll be the one thanking you, Winry, by doing everything I can."

She nodded, the tears petering out. _I promised my life to you Ed, and you promised me yours… I know you're coming home and I'll wait for you however long it takes, but… for your son's sake, please hurry._


	4. Demon Tails (AnE-BE and FairyTail)

**Fairy Tail and Blue Exorcist Crossover. Concept piece. T cause Rin swears.**

* * *

 **In Dragmair, a town to the extreme south of Enca, on the Hidden Continent, Natsu and Happy wandered searching for an adventure. They were about to be in over their heads.**

Natsu's stomach still lurched from the boat ride. Happy munched on a fish watching him while he regained his composure. "Well, as long as we're here we should see if anyone needs help. The sooner we get started the sooner we can explore!" He sat up with a huff and gazed at the port. "Ya' know, this place is larger than I thought it would be…"

The city, for that would more aptly describe it, sloped upward along the spine of a mountain. It was the spiked ridges that dominated the landscape, white peaked and stoic. The rich could afford to dwell in opulence on the slopes. A good third of the populace lived on raised floating piers. Houses built up from the ocean, mirroring the mountains, gave the impression that the ground continued up as it approached the coast. Shops thrived in this middle ground between stone and surf. Merchants were always looking for runners and guards on their caravans. Much of the country's wealth was localized on the fertile, seaward, edges. Mt Draglow was the buffer between rocky coasts and the seemingly endless sea of sand just beyond.

Climate varied just as much, ranging from blistering heat in the Pit to limb snapping cold along the Dry Spine. Stories of "Pit marches" were the most common examples to tyrannical punishment in land. Criminals and rebels were striped of all clothes and tools, given one item of their request, and sent out at dawn. They would march for three days until they reached the other side or died under the uncaring sun. The Pit was the lowest point the the country, located between Mt Draglow and Sungraze Peak, and covered almost the entire dessert in a roughly oval shape. If the prisoner could make it across this span, from one outpost to the other, they were released. To this day, no one has made it.

The Dry Spine on the other hand offered more hope. It's the name of a infamous mine to the North-West. Prisoners were sent to work off debts to the government or to humanity there. The condition were back breaking labor until you're sentence is served, or escape to a frozen hell. Fifteen people have managed to get out, fourteen begged to be let in again, no bodies were ever recovered. The prison has no need to restrain the sentenced. The Mountain is more than willing to devour any foolish enough to step outside, burying them under ice and snow.

Very little of the nation's politics were known to outsiders, specifically mage guilds. The Validri Republic kept their friends close and their enemies dead. Coups and scandals were common, the populace that wasn't rich were essentially slaves. Rights were extended only to the upper class and outsiders weren't worth the dirt they were standing on. This was the world that Natsu had just step foot into. The poor sod just didn't know it yet.

"Stop! Get back here you punk!" A voice echoed across the harbor, snapping Natsu out of his day dreaming. There was a rather portly old man trying to chase down a young man of maybe sixteen. The youth turned on his heels, pulled a nasty face, and took off into the crowd. He had black-blue hair and was carrying a canvas knapsack with a sword strapped to his back. "You little thief" The old man huffed. Natsu raced past the him. He had found step one on his adventure.

The pink haired mage, with Happy dangling from his shoulder, was hot on the youth's tail. The latter glanced over his shoulder. "Who are you?"

"I'm Natsu Dragneel, and I'm gonna stop you!"

"Hu?" He suddenly swerved to the right and Natsu, who wasn't paying much attention, ran full force into an iron support beam. "You're not to bright, are you." Thief, as Natsu decided to call him, had clambered up the side of another post and had settled himself in a crouch. His impossibly blue eyes shimmered with amusement.

Natsu peeled himself off of the dented metal, a red line running down his face and torso. He snarled and then smiled. Slamming his fist into the ground, a magic circle appeared beneath him. "Dragon Flame Fist!" he shouted, rushing the smirking thief, who nimble dodged by jumping to the next pole, half a block away.

"You're a mage?" Thief called as Natsu charged again. His target laughed, springing just out of reach each time the mage closed in. "Hey, stop trying to hit me already, it's annoying."

"You stole something, give it back."

"The hell are you on abou-urh" In their flight through the city the two came out into a town square swarming with guards. "Shit."

"Okumura Rin!" one shouted, pointing at Thief whose expression went from mild irritation to pissed. As soon as his boots touched wood the soldiers drew their weapons.

"Dammit Pinkie! If you weren't following me I could have gotten away without dealing with this."

"But thieves deserve to be caught."

"I'm not a thief! They stole this," he tapped the sword on his back, "from me!"

"Hu?"

The soldiers rushed in and Thief had time to shout, "This is why I hate mages!" before launching into a heated battle.


	5. Imagine Blue (Ao No Exorcist)

**Ao no Exorcist one shot, Imaginary?Rin, Normal!Yukio; Yukio had always been bullied as a kid. He was weak and sickly but his mind was something to be feared. Ever since he was a baby Rin had been with him, growing along side him. Rin was his only friend, his own imaginary monster complete with fang like teeth and a tail. Concept piece. Again T because Rin.**

* * *

"Huff huff huff," Yukio puffed along, legs moving as fast as possible through the dense wooded park. A figure ran just ahead of him, leaping casually through the undergrowth. The tall shadows of late evening alerted him to the day's impending close. In desperation he called out, "Rin! wait up! I can't run that fast!"

"Hu? Why are you so slow, Yukio!" His friend came to an abrupt stop, tail swishing back and forth, waiting for the glasses wearing boy to catch up. When Yukio was finally standing next to his darker haired friend he heaved, his little lungs searching for air. "Are you alright, Yuki-chan?"

"I-I told you not to, ha, call me that, ha!"

Rin's response was a giggle, "How can I not," he ruffled Yukio's hair with a hand, "you're such a delicate princess!"

Once Yukio caught his breath, his fingers wrapped around Rin sleeve, it got dark quickly in the fall and Rin could see better than he could. The older boy smiled and began guiding him back through the woods.

Soon a powerful male voice drifted over to them, "Yukio. Yukio? It's time for dinner, come back!... Yukio!" The boys picked up their pace and soon Father Fujimoto was in sight. Rin let go of Yukio's hand and he let go of Rin's sleeve. The two would part here, Yukio's adoptive father scared Rin, he didn't like Fujimoto at all. However Rin always stayed for Yukio in the woods and sometimes, if it was especially cold, Yukio would break the holy seal by his bedroom and open the window for Rin to climb through. Rin would hide under his bed all night saying something like 'If I'm here then there's no room for the monsters!'

"Ah, Yukio, there you are." His father bent down and scoped him up, "Where were you off to today?"

"I was playing with Rin!"

"Again? I really want to meet this friend of yours, Yukio, and thank him for being so good at it."

"That's not possible, Daddy, he doesn't like you."

"Ach! What's not to like about me?"

Yukio paused for a moment to look at Rin who was peeking out from behind a tree. When the hidden boy nodded Yukio returned his gaze to Father Fujimoto, "He said your eyes are scary."

"My eyes, hu? I'm afraid there's nothing to do about that." He turned as he spoke, walking back to the shrine.

"Bye, bye," Yukio whispered, waving into the forest.

\\\

As he got older Yukio began to put aside foolish things from his childhood, imaginary friends among them. Really, how unoriginal, a little boy his age only a tad older, with darker hair, blue-er eyes, and a tail, how ridiculous. He was still bullied but the antagonism was less physical, with the rare exception, and more imposed social isolation and general torment common at ivy league schools. He had worked his way into true cross effectively painting a 'make of fun of me, I'm poor.' sign on his back.

Today was one of those where he'd been the punching bag for an upperclassman. It was frustrating and he winched at his reflection. Fortunately the dorms had a sink and mirror in the room itself; he guessed that was one of the advantages to being an elitist academy.

Yukio muttered a whole stream of colorful curses under his breath as he set to treating his injuries. Cut lip and cheek, bruised nose, black eye, and his shoulders had burns from cigarettes on them. He closed his eyes remembering how it took three other boys to hold him down while their boss ground the burning ash into his shoulder.

Once that was done Yukio went over to lay down for a quick nap. He healed better when he slept.

"Wow, you look like shit."

Yukio froze, heart leaping into his throat. At his desk was another young man his age, blue-black hair, sulfuric blue eyes, messy grey shirt, ripped black jeans, a spiked belt with a chain. "Who are you?"

An expression of offence and pain flashed over his face. "Seriously? You don't show up for a whole three years, go to a preppy school just to get away from the shrine, and go around say shit like 'oh it was just a phase!' Is that really all it takes to forget me?!" He clicked his tongue, leaning back in Yukio's chair, and propping his muddy boots on Yukio's homework.

"Hey, get your feet of my work." He charged at the boy only stumble on an empty chair. Yukio looked around confused, that kid had been there just a second ago. Someone shoved him from behind.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Yuki-chan."

"R-Rin?"

The other young man laughed, bouncing up on his heels a little, "See, I knew you hadn't forgotten me."

"But… But you're not real!" Rin rolled his eyes and Yukio settled into the chair holding his head. "I must have been harder than I thought."

"Oh stop being such a baby, really." Rin slapped his burned shoulder. He winced.

Yukio looked him over a few times, he still had pointed ears and fangs, but he didn't see a tail.

He was going to ask when Rin replied primitively. "It's considered polite to tuck your tail in, you haven't come to see me in a long time so I figured I should be polite."

"How-"

"Did I read your mind?"

Yukio nodded.

Rin smiled at him, "Maybe because I've got access to what's up here," he tapped Yukio's temple. "Eyes are a very easy thing to read once you learn how."

"Are you sure you're not just a figure of my imagination?" He didn't need Rin to point out how stupid that question was. "Ugh, whatever."

"Hey, mind if I stay here, it's a nice a place."

"Sure, just don't mess with my stuff."


	6. Later Year: Dominae (TG:D)

**TG:D spin off. One Shot. OC's. For those few people that actually like my characters, this is an event a few years after the main story from Domino, hence the title.**

* * *

"Alright everyone," the burly captain spoke, his voice gruff from decades of smoking, "This is an elimination assignment. We don't celebrate until every ghoul in the area is dead. Those Porcelain Dolls won't survive tonight if we have anything to say about it."

"Sir!"

"Rank 3 Kogami."

"Sir," a petite female officer with long auburn hair stepped forward from amongst her colleagues.

"Are you sure you're prepared for this?"

"The Dolls' leader killed my father, sir. I will take Patchwork down."

"Patchwork is a SS rated ghoul; even if the chairman let you join the CCG because of your apparent skill, you're still just a Rank 3 investigator. Don't get reckless. Watashiro's team will be the ones to go after Patchwork. Do your job fast and through and I'm sure you'll have time to watch." Her captain lifted his gaze to the other teams, eyeing them through his dull ocher glasses. "Let's move"

Kogami kept her gaze glued to her weapon, embarrassment flushed up to her face, her fellow officers parting around her to get to the vans. Watashiro's hand was on her shoulder and she glanced up at him. The young man was a little taller than average but her shortness didn't help. Whenever they'd stand next to each other she'd look like a child, and that's exactly how he treated her, despite the fact that Kogami was three years older. "Are you okay, Kogami-san?"

Her brow knit together and she shrugged off his grip, "Fine." _Was that a hint of blush on his cheeks?_

"T-that's good to hear… um," he lifted the dislodged hand up behind his head, scratching through his dusty brown hair, "Please listen to the captain; I'd hate to see you get hurt, I mean."

"I can take care of myself Watashiro- _kun_!" She let her indignation get the better of her, but that wasn't the point. Just because she was a bit on the small side, just because she didn't go to the academy, just because she appeared fragile, didn't mean she wasn't capable. Kogami knew her way around a fight just as well, if not better, than the others. She grew up with ghouls for fucks sake! There was no way she'd lose her cool and start balling her eyes out because some pervy ghoul was getting hands and she didn't have her quinque immediately ready. What could she do to make them understand that?

"Ah! I-I um, sorry." _Oh gods, he looks like a dejected puppy_.

Kogami heaved a sigh, "No, I'm sorry. I took my frustration out on you, Watashiro-kun, and I shouldn't have. But, please, stop treating me like a child. There is a reason Chairman let me join the CCG and I'm fully able to handle ghouls on my own." She felt a blush start to creep onto her face, "I-I'm glad that you're worried for me but please worry about yourself first… I'd h-hate for you to die as well."

Before the situation could progress any further Kogami dismissed herself and jogged away as fast as her legs would carry her. His expression when she had said that stayed burned into her mind. Watashiro was beat red. If it had been anyone else saying that, he wouldn't react quite the same way, but Kogami had a reputation as an ice queen and he'd been pining after her since she first stepped foot into the CCG branch office; perhaps one of the reason's he went out of his way to be friendly. To bad it'd come off as patronizing.

The ride through Tokyo's streets were relatively uneventful, a good thing. The Porcelain Dolls, named for the distinct porcelain masks they wore, had been tracked to a warehouse by the docks. The buildings were large and regularly inhabited, not the typical hideout but their leader, Patchwork, the first ghoul in the gang to wear a porcelain mask, was clever and also a coward. He was notorious for never participating in a fight if it could be helped and his group would scatter rather than stand their ground, but that was all part of his tact. If anyone gave chase the whole group would be signaled somehow and then they'd all descend in an ambush on the pursuer. Most enemies were dead before they had a chance to fight back.

Arima went after them at one point; still not even the Shinigami could kill them all. He'd fought with Patchwork though, the one who stood apart from all the other ghouls in his group. Their battle had lasted less than a minute, Arima had a long shallow cut over his chest and lost his quinque, buried in Patchwork's stomach. The leader and his group's core had escaped while the investigator had been preoccupied with the small fry and getting his second weapon out.

Kogami remembered the report and tightened her grip on Sōnsamonā, her quinque sword. Patchwork only had one confirmed kill to his name, her father, Associate Special Class Kogami Kota. The one fight he didn't run away from, the one time when he'd been ruthless, the time he'd spared her life.

When she closed her eyes, she could still see him, long black coat, linen bandages covering his torso, neck, shoulder, arms, and head, that mask with its' demented grin. That one visible eye staring into her soul, it was sad like he'd not wanted her to see the body lying at his feet, mangled and ripped. It was a meat processing plant, Patchwork had called her father out, and he'd gone without backup because he believed that she was in danger. He'd fought tooth and nail, but it wasn't enough. The ghoul had kicked him into a butchery machine… and pulled the lever.

She promised that day to avenge him. Nothing was going to stop her, not her colleagues, not her captain, not her conscience. When Kogami set her mind to something it got done.

They arrived at the warehouse shortly after her reminiscence was complete. There was an eerie silence about the place, like the spirits of the Dolls' victims took up residence beside old ships and rusted chains. The building creaked and rattled with every gust of wind, a dense fog rolled up the docks and into the warehouses muffling and mutating the sound into groans. All around her, the other investigators were on edge and unsettled, but she took one breath and walked forward, into the den of the beast.

The interior space was just as creepy, moonlight drifting lazily through holes in the ceiling. The steel skeletons of seafaring giants littered the room and several figures hovered about the ground level, tiptoeing along catwalks and raised platforms. Tense seconds slid by, crushed into place by the two opposing forces. Kogami's Captain shouldered his way to the front formation and seemed to be laughing. "What? There's only fifteen of you left?"

"You're too quick to be congratulating yourselves," it sounded like a young man, the ghoul that spoke was perched in a seated position on a railing, contempt clear in his eyes. The mask hanging halfway off his face was some manner of mouse or rat. "The boss ordered us to leave, but there's no way in hell we'd tuck our tails and run when it's our home being threatened."

"This isn't your home, Mita." Kogami gripped her quinque tighter as the familiar sound of Patchwork's voice flowed into the space. Once she might have been reassured by his gentle sound.

"A-Aneki! You shouldn't be up you're still-"

"Shut up!" A sixteenth figure appeared from the shadows, coat discarded, but still covered in cloth strips, leering rabbit mask also remaining. His name had in fact come from the face covering; it was jaggedly cut down the middle with a terrifying, stitched, linen cover, stylized to look like the mouth was sewn closed. It had a crazed looking eye that still gave the ghoul full depth perception while hiding the real eye beneath it. He had a hand over his stomach where the cloth had turned dark red and pain shimmered in his visible ires. "I never told any of you to follow me," he turned his gaze to the other shadows, "and I never wanted anyone to get hurt. But this is my final request-"

"Don't talk like that Aneki, we can still-"

"Don't die for my sake! Go on living in spite of the hell we were born into. Remember the days when we could play together in that place. Remember Domino… and live."

"Boss…" The other ghouls looked to each other like they didn't know what to do.

"Mita, keep them safe." Patchwork turned toward the CCG, towards Kogami, "Now, Go!"

"Don't let them get away!" the Captain shouted and the battle had begun. Or more aptly it was a chase, but there wasn't going to be any ambush this time. The CCG far outnumbered the ghouls this go around.

Kogami turned her gaze from the fray to Watashiro, who just so happened to be fighting Patchwork. "Watashiro-kun!" He glanced at her long enough to grin. Kogami's weapon hummed as it moved through the air, making contact with Patchwork's side. The ghoul snarled and his ukaku kagune shout out, forcing them both back. Two long limbs ripped through his linen bandages. They looked like thick, white, clouds, but she knew better than to think they wouldn't hurt.

She shared a look with the other investigator, and they both moved in again. Kogami could predict Patchwork's every move; the fighting style was very familiar to her, after all. "Surrender, ghoul, and we'll make your death a clean one." Watashiro sneered, causing her to flinch. _No, this has to be done, for father. Traitor_.

"You haven't been able to touch me, _human_." Her eyes met with Patchwork's when he looked at her, "Your partner is doing all the work."

A smile pressed her lips, "Your style is too easy to read. You move pretty slow for a ukaku type. That injury giving you much trouble?"

"Not as much as you, _Kogami_."

"Don't call my name, bastard!" She lashed out at the masked figure again, one of his kagune easily intercepting the blow. Another stab of pain shot through his eye and she found herself regretting that she'd said that. The other limb moved in a flash, knocking Watashiro onto his back. The dark haired male went tumbling of the platform, probably bruised, but was otherwise unharmed.

"I'm sorry." Patchwork's voice was low, and mournful, drawing her attention back to the struggle at hand.

Kogami turned her eyes to the ghoul in front of her again, shocked. "Sorry won't bring my father back."

"That's not why I was apologizing. That man deserved what I did to him. What I regret, was that my vengeance hurt you as well."

"W-what are you saying? My father was a good man!"

"He was a sadistic murder and the reason _my father_ is dead. I'm not the first ghoul to be called Patchwork," he brushed his fingers again the porcelain surface of his mask, "it was given to me by mother, the last gift my father could ever give me was a chain, because that was all he had. Kogami Kota took away everything else. He didn't deserve a clean death much the same as my father didn't deserve his tormented end. You weren't there. You didn't _see_ what that monster did."

"N-no, that's not right. It can't be. I-I…"

"I'm so sick of this, of all of it." His kagune evaporated before Kogami had time to react, her blade almost decapitating him from the sudden lack of resistance. She stopped it just in time. "I'm a failure. Do you remember that promise I made Sigma-aneki?" The frayed fabric holding on Patchwork's mask finally tore, letting it fall free. The ghoul dropped to his knees, a blood red stain progressing down his chest onto his pant legs. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. The face that stared back at her was one she'd seen so many times, it was so dear to her. "I could never kill you, no matter what it means for me, Alice."

The fighting had stopped and all eyes not chasing down the last couple ghouls, were locked on the scene. Kogami's hands were shaking and tears had begun to stream down her cheeks, hot and miserable. Why couldn't she do it? Why had she ever wanted to? "Don't do this," she choked out. "Stand up. Put your mask back on. Don't make me- Don't make me kill my own brother!"

She heard the gasps and exclamations of shock but she couldn't care less. Her beloved brother was kneeling here, bleeding to death, giving her what was left of his life in penance. But if her father, if Kota had really been the one responsible for all Usa's sleepless nights, nightmares, all those time he woke screaming, begging the murder not to kill her too; there was no way she would have ever called Kota father. She didn't know, but he'd known, from the first day they met, he'd known.

Kogami dropped to her knees as well, unable to stand it any longer, sword clattering to the floor beside her. "I-I'm so confused, Usa- Nii-san," she sniffed letting go of it all to tears. He hesitated, hand shaking slightly, but regardless pulled her into a rough embrace.

"I'm not going to make it, Alice. I'm sorry that I failed in protecting you."

"No." She shook her head, gripping the fabric still clinging to his back, "I won't lose you, not again!"

"Kogami-san?" Watashiro had come up behind her, quinque in hand. "Y-you're _related_ to him?" She heard a gasp, Usa must have looked up at him, "A half-ghoul?"

"Usa-chi, promise me something else."

"What?"

"Promise me… that you'll never die without giving it your damnedest to live first, even if that means sacrificing me."

"I can't do that, ever." She felt his grip tighten as the CCG closed in around them.

"Then… live. Live for me."

She met his eyes again, what she said hurt him, because it meant hurting her again. "Sorry," he murmured pulling her closer. It was so sudden she didn't even have time to register his bite. Her blood flowed into Usa's mouth and his kagune activated. The burst of compressed air knocked all the combatants down. Her brother looked one last time into Kogami's eyes, saddened yet hopeful. He scooped up his mask and slid it back onto his face before leaping up into the warehouse rafters. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." One blow from his ukaku tore the roof above him into shreds and Usa was gone.

Kogami grabbed her wounded shoulder and cried silently. This whole day had been ruined, and maybe even the rest of her life, but at least she knew why everything turned out this way.


	7. The Styx (Undertale-Mafiatale)

**Undertale Fic. Sans is the main character. Probably going to be M for violence if I write it out all the way but right now, T for language and dark themes. Mafiatale AU inspired by theslowesthnery's stuff on tumblr, only a different kind of fucked up.**

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 **Summery:**

 **Sans has been out of the mob for nearly half a decade when Papyrus is taken captive, along with several other memembers of Asgore's "kingsmen" gang. The skeleton now has to decide, fall back into his old ways or strive to be better, all while trying to get his brother back in his life.**

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Sans shifted his vest, trying not to flinch at the glass pressing against his ribs. Smuggling was a business he was damn good at it, if only on the virtue that no one thought to pat down his insides; not that he would let them. He'd gotten used to humans and pat downs long ago. Occupational hazard. Of course he had a reputation as the best smuggler in the Greater Ebbot area but nothing the beat cops could ever stick him with. It's a good thing, too. Working hard to get a rep had been a pain in the tailbone, now that he had it buyers weren't too keen on shirking their deals.

There were, however, always a few numbskulls that thought they could pull one over on him. Cut his end and run. Just cause he was a monster. Humans, _always_ arrogant, thinking just because most monsters get the short end when it comes to education that everyone's an idiot.

That was, in fact, his current issue.

The warehouse district down on the riverfront, not much going on if you don't know where to look. No witnesses. Just the way black market dealers liked it. Unfortunately that also meant he wasn't likely to get back up if things went south. Decent lighting was also difficult to come by, meaning standing in between the mostly shadowed buildings was the only option. The skeleton didn't technically need the light like humans did, he could still 'see' in total darkness even without his eyes lit, but light made his clients more comfortable and less likely to shoot at him.

Speaking of shooting, Sans glaced over the repertoire of current buyers. Three men, two with tommies and one with a briefcase were hanging back while he was stuck with another human, their boss most likely, trying to haggle. New gangs cropping up everywhere, he'd deal with all of them if they had the cash. His first mistake.

"look, pal," Sans cast his gaze into the barren street, searching for any hint of life in the shadowed alleyways, just in case, before returning his glowing pupils to the human. "i'm just an honest skeleton trying to make an not-so-honest livin', alright? so you either pay what we agreed on or you don't waist my time."

The man grit his teeth, the fake smile on his face dipped as he regarded Sans with contempt. "I don't think you understand the position you're in, monster."

"and _i_ don't think you know who you are dealing with, _human._ " Sans bit back with just as much venom, letting his eyes go out. "money for product. capitalism, pal. we all walk away happy," the skeleton forced his grin wider, the cigar between his canines audibly crunching from the pressure, "or just _i_ will."

For the briefest moment the miniscule glow from the dingy streetlamp was overpowered by a brilliant blue flash, washing over the rain slicked pavement. For that briefest moment Sans felt like his old self again, younger, clever, less scared, and very, very powerful. The moment was over as fast as it had occurred leaving the humans startled and pale. They had felt it too, Sans could see it in the way their souls trembled, that's him, that's LOVE he had accumulated over the years.

Humans weren't totally insensitive to that kind of thing, it just took them a little longer to get the message. Fortunately it didn't seem like Sans would have to demonstrate. The lead human, with tremorous hand, beckoned over the one toting a briefcase. $550, in smaller bills like fives and tens per Sans request, rested within. The skeleton felt his grin grow more genuine. They at least had the good sense to bring the agreed amount.

With a flick of his wrist one of the bottles apparated into his hand. This wasn't the cheap kind of booze you'd get from a local distiller's basement; this was a Monster 1850's vintage of champagne. Not cheap in the least. The kind of liquid courage you reserved for yourself. They were paying for more than just one bottle of course, but that's where Sans put his magic to work. The crate he'd been holding above the warehouse gently dropped down next to the humans' automobile while Sans pulled the other two bottles out of his ribs. It was hard not to give a relieved sigh once the pressure on his spine was gone.

The humans seemed more than a little surprised, quickly putting together why Sans was so highly cited in his business. He was passed the briefcase and the humans made their way off, speeding down the road faster than strictly necessary with fifteen bottles of bravery in their back seat. Poor sods probably didn't know the difference between DT extract and what they just bought up. He chuckled and shook a head at the greenhorns' enthusiasm. It didn't suit humans.

That reminded Sans, Papyrus's birthday was coming up and he needed to get his brother something. Something nice hopefully. His cut of this deal was $275, quite a hefty sum as far as monsters were concerned. He used to make more but those days were long behind him. No more contract killing for this skeleton, no sir. Much too fragile now. One too many bullets clipping his ribs for that anymore.

Sans paced away from the warehouses back into downtown. He'd get a cab to the Ruins, a nearly unoccupied section of town torn up from gang wars, and walk to his apartment from there. His body could be on auto pilot once he slipped the briefcase into the in-between. While it was feasible to hop from the warehouses on the river's waterfront to his bedroom, it wasn't a short trip and he actually had things to do tonight. Couldn't just crash once at home. So traveling the old fashioned way, at least for most of the trip, would do him just fine.

Sans glanced at his watch, swearing quietly to himself. Did he have enough time for flowers? Should he even get flowers? What about his clothes? A plain button up, grey-blue suit vest, and black slacks weren't the best first impression. But first impressions didn't really matter when they'd been exchanging letters for years. How long had it been since he'd gotten one, much less since they had met in person? Not for five years at least. Did they really miss him? Him of all monsters? No, couldn't be. The lazy, hitman for hire was not someone to make friends with.

Sans staggered, just catching himself in time to keep his balance. Some poor guy with not nearly enough wit lay passed out drunk in the alley way. Sans had been so lost in his own skull he'd not noticed. He gave a quick glance at the surrounding shops to get his barrings. Maybe five or so minutes from Grillby's by the looks of it.

"ugh, i don't have time for this." Despite his protest Sans tapped the man awake with his foot. The human looked up at him, bloodshot bleary eyes widening in a gape at his smirking skull. "pal, i'd scram if i was ya… cops 'round here look for every excuse to beat somebody."

Surprisingly the drunk was coherent enough to nod, seeming more frightened by the skeleton than what Sans had been saying, and scrambled off in a hurry.

Sans shook his head, turning to be on his way again. Then deciding better of it and just shortcutting back to his neighborhood. He was close enough now that it wouldn't kill him to expend some extra energy for time. Most days he couldn't be damned to get anywhere on time, but not tonight. He couldn't afford not to care tonight.

He sauntered out of the side street by his apartment building, one of the few places in town that would rent to monsters, making a mental list of everything he'd need to bring. Some Temmies were milling about in front of the building, casting Sans wary glances, except for Bob who was waving. Sans' grin softened a bit and he nodded back, stamping out his cigar before walking in. Metalton didn't like it when people smoked inside the apartments, not that the showman was ever around to complain much.

"hey," he grunted to Napstablook as he passed. The poor ghost looked like he had a heart attack, jolting awkwardly at being engaged in conversation. His neighbor was quiet, very shy about his music. Which was a shame, the kid had talent.

"O-oh, hello Sans… sorry for not seeing you… oh, you must be mad, sorry. I'll just go so-"

"kid," Sans leaned against his door while rifling his pocket for the key, "I'm just saying hello, stop apologizing." He fixed Napstablook with a patient, soft-edged glare as the ghost slipped into his normal habits.

It took a moment for the musician to become comfortable but Sans was used to that. "Did you leave your key inside again?"

"heh. must've." Pinpricks of sweat dappled Sans brow. Good thing he'd taken a shortcut, seems like he'd need the extra time after all.

Napstablook just smiled shyly and drifted through the wall, unlocking Sans' door from the other side and swinging it open. "How do you manage to lock yourself out every day? Oh, sorry, that was rude."

"nah." Sans gave the apology a dismissive wave and Blooky a mischievous grin. "i deserved that, heh. well, see ya tomorrow, kid. don't stay up to late, okay?"

The ghost nodded as they traded places. The monsters bid each other farewells and good nights. Sans closed the door softly, his mind lingering on how empty his home was entirely unbidden. He worried for Papyrus. If his brother was doing well; if Asgore was holding up his end of the deal.

The skeleton chided himself and paced through the thin entry hall into his den. Paps would be fine, he's not a baby bones anymore, and to top it all off has a killer left hook, more thanks to him than Undyne. He didn't need to worry about his brother, the younger skeleton was even stronger than he'd been at Paps' age. "though i at least had the blasters as a fall back…"

Sans shook the doubt from his skull and walked briskly into his room. The faded sky-blue walls were a nice reminder of where he was. Home, getting ready for a good time with an old friend. In between his tripping over a drunk human and opening up his closet to find something decent, Sans had decided that they were indeed friends. No one else shared his sense of humor after all. Now that he was out of the old 'jobs, drinks, and drugs' self fulfilling prophesy of his youth Sans could get behind the old lady's philosophy, bitterly wishing he'd listened to her sooner.

The musing didn't stop the sour taste in his mouth when he spotted an old rusty-red three piece he used to wear. It didn't suit him anymore, that old uniform. It still smelled of dust and iron no matter how many times it was cleaned. That wasn't something that just water could wash away. Ever.

Sans clenched and unclenched his fists, pushing the offending article aside in favor of a black button up and some nicer pants. There was a off-blue vest and matching tie to go with it and the skeleton plucked one of his better pairs of suspenders from a designated drawer. He picked a pair of simple white cufflinks. His dressier black and white loafers were the obvious choice of footwear.

With his clothes handled, Sans took a quick brush to his teeth, just to make sure he didn't miss anything in way of food from his lunch. It was a nervous habit for him, checking his teeth. Like that one human who runs fingers or a comb through their hair. Teeth were the only features a skeleton could be vain about that made sense to others. Things like fretting over ribs weren't as understandable but Sans could only think of the comparison as a waistline on human. Though fortunately this one vanity he allowed himself could be intimidating when played right. It helped to have bite strength like a crocodile.

His preening done, Sans fixed his outfit once more, scooped up his trenchcoat, a nice navy one with a custom cut to fit his shoulders, a fedora, and his keys, heading out into the chilled fall night. Bob, blessed little creature that he was, waved Sans farewell as he passed. Temmies used to be friendlier, but that was before he'd switched carries. Now he was in supposed competition with them, though he could never figure quite how the Tem Shop owner fenced everything he'd brought in for her. He'd have to remember to get her and Bob something for Christmas soon or he'd never do it.

Sans hailed a taxi, climbed in, and was pleasantly surprised to see a monster he didn't recognize. Someone who wouldn't look at him narrowly or ask if they'd met before. Just what he needed really. "spider cafe on twelfth." His voice had a bounce that he didn't need to force this time.

"Muffet's place?"

"yeah."

The driver gave a nervous chuckle and Sans coked a browbone. "Okay then."

"owe 'er money, kid?"

"N-no." The driver balked at the idea of being that unfortunate before his somber expression resurfaced. "You really haven't heard? About what's going on in that part of town?"

"i make it my business not to know that. keep my volmer out of other people's and they leave me well enough alone." When the driver gave him a funny look Sans tapped the thin bone separating what would be his nasal cavities if he'd a nose. "anatomy humor, kid."

"Oh, haha. I get it. About staying out of things, I mean. Though, you might want to rethink going into that neighborhood. The Kingsmen expanded their territory and the humans that used to run the block don't like it too much. There's been three stabbing incidents in the past two days."

"yikes," Sans leaned back into the upholstery. "i'm just meeting a friend, getting some spider cider, and heading out again. hopefully i won't run into the wrong sort." His grin was a little more forced than when he'd left but hey, new faces, new places. Make the most of this. "don't get me wrong, pal. it's _knife_ to meet new people but i didn't plan on _cutting_ my visit short."

The driver groan. "You're one of _those_?"

"what, not tickling your _funny bone_?"

He barked a laugh at the taximan's grimace just as they pulled up to the street corner. "I'm not driving into the middle of that if I can help it." Any jovial airs were gone in an instant of flashes.

Sans nodded, the percussion of gunfire dampening his mood into the ground. "how much do i owe you for the ride." The skeleton paid off the cab and stepped out, keeping out of the fray by a good twenty foot birth. That should be enough that stray bullets wouldn't be dusting him any time soon.

Fortune was on his side today, as Muffet's was between him and the mobsters trying to murder each other. He ducked inside and glanced around the nearly empty shop. Most patrons were as far back from the street as possible, or taking cover under tables. Muffet herself was whispering hurried instructions to a large spider-like creature, her pet, before turning to face Sans. "Oh, hello deerie. Didn't think we'd ever see you in this part of town again." Her voice was cheery enough, though strained.

"didn't think i'd ever have a reason to come back. just meeting with an old lady, i'll have the cider."

Muffet smiled at him, the knowing kind that he really couldn't stand and busied herself about the drink. He leaned against the counter, searching the panicked or irritated faces more intently. He could sort out the veterans of hardship from those who'd never had much of it. The gunfire didn't bother him so much as it had when he was a greenhorn. In a game of who's who, it'd be easy enough to pick out which gangs each monster belonged to, unsurprising that the boldest were counted amongst the Kingsmen. There were a few from smaller splinters that didn't seem quite as agitated until sirens wailed in the distance.

Sans dropped into a nearby booth when Muffet handed him the drink. His gaze seeking out a particular face. The shop door chimed open, hushed whispered passed through the cafe and Muffet brought out a table cover with strategically placed dishes and half eaten pastries. Monster of the Kingsmen gang slid into the chairs, each taking on a mannerism as if they'd been sitting their for a good while. He found himself grinning. They kept using his idea, hu? "not sure wether to be proud or offended," the skeleton mumbled to himself just as a large white monster sat regally in the booth across from him.

"Proud, I suspect. How have you been, Sans?"

"nice to see you too, tori." Sans let his gaze drift off the mobsters' table onto his 'new' acquaintance. "ya know this is our 'first meeting', right?"

The goat monster flushed slightly with an embarrassed smile.

"take that as a yes then." He lifted his glass to her just as two police officers threw open the door. One spotted Sans and deigned to sneer at him. He waved back with a sardonic snort.

"Friends of yours?" Toriel murmured into her tea, a cup he'd not noticed before. Most likely taken from the mobster's table.

"define, friend."

"I see." Her response was measured, caution permeating her tone as she gazed at the humans. The monsters remained like that, eyes on cops while they tried, and failed, to get something on the incident. Nice to see them frustrated with out having a gun pointed at him this go 'round. They stormed out in due time.

"you asked me how i am, could be better, could be much worse."

"Your HP?"

"still one."

Toriel noded, considering her paws for a moment. "I could always-"

"tori." She met his eyes with no small amount of hesitance. "you've got to let it go. this isn't your fault. I did some shit and now i'm paying for it. end of story."

"I know you think you deserve this Sans, but-"

"i don't 'think' tori, i know." The lights in Sans eyes had gone out, his gaze tracing faded nicks and old divots in his metacarpals before clearing a non-existent throat. "how's paps?"

"Oh, Papyrus is grand," her glowing smile flitting back onto her muzzle. She gushed over his brother for a solid five minutes, and could have gone on had she not realized her out of character rambling. Sans thought it was just her mothering nature matching up with Paps' exuberant and almost child-like personality. He wondered if that had changed, briefly dropping his grin a bit. "Worried?"

She really did pick up on everything didn't she? "yeah." Sans shrugged, pulling off his jacket, even though he didn't feel the heat. Might as well settle in if this conversation was as long as he'd hoped. "asgore still keeping his end?"

Toriel's smile faltered. Sans didn't like the guilty feel from her eyes darting away. "Yes and no." The goat monster flinched at the scratch of Sans fingers against the table. Her gaze drawn to the unconsciously clenched fist. "Asgore is not letting him fight on the front lines, but…"

"he's not just the getaway driver, ain't he."

"I'm afraid so." Her paw moved over his battle worn fingers, face tinged with a deep sorrow that Sans hadn't expected from her. "You know how much he hates hurting others. Please don't worry about _that_ , Sans. We are his friends and we want Papyrus to be happy."

Feeling a little less murderous, Sans let the warmth of Toriel's fur sink into his bones. "yeah. i know. not gonna stop worrying though, it's my job."

"Sans…"

"oh yeah." The skeleton motions like he's reaching into his pocket, but is really just pulling some change from the in-between. "give this to alph for me. tell 'er the rest is coming soon, once i find a safer way to move it." He muttered the last part under his breath, briefly swearing mentally at the cops, busting one of his stashes. Last time he trusts anyone else to run courier jobs for him.

"Are you leaving already?"

The hurt in her tone makes Sans freeze up for a second. His mind leapt back to the first time she had said that, bloodstained bones, a cracked eye socket, singed suites, the darkness. He shuddered. "yeah. sorry to disappoint, tori. guess we didn't tell any jokes tonight, hu? when was the last time that happened?" Sans wasn't waiting for an answer, scooping up his jacket, adjusting his hat, and dropping the coins for his cider on the counter.

He stopped at the door. Held in place just as Toriel solemnly replied, "It's never happened before." Sans gives one last look at the 'Monster Queen', brow dipping up and regret eating into his ribs.

He pushes the door open and walks briskly into the chilly night air. He needed a stiff drink, preferably from Grillby's.


	8. My Lion (Tokyo Ghoul)

**First Person POV "Reader" insert. Kuki Urie X "Reader" Gender Neutral/ Non Binary/ Non Specified until very end. Ghoul "Reader" Social reserved/ Sociopahtic reader? Happy ending?**

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" _Papa!_ " A small voice I hardly recognized echoed in my head, sunbeams burning into my eyes while I furiously blinked back tears. I must've fallen asleep. Ah, this is my stop, Tokyo city. The airport is so busy, hardly a place to stand let alone move. The people here are so tiny, I'm towering above most men. Oh, please don't look at me, I'll lose my nerve. Seeing all these people, humans so unique yet all the same. It's a mass of life, a noisy crowd, a singular entity. I'm amongst the throng, an invader to the homogeneity of this land. If I hadn't already made arrangements I might have just booked a return flight and headed back home. My family tried to warn me, but if I'm not unsettled by new places, I'm bull-headed about it.

A man calls my name in a... very strong accent actually. He's tall himself, or rather taller than most. Pale blonde, white suit, well kept appearance, and his scent... "You're the woman I'm supposed to meet?" He has a rumbly baritone that reminds me of father. I remembered my instructions and show my signet ring. The other ghoul took my hand to examine the sapphire jewel. My family's golden crest adorns one side with my name upon the other.

"You are Yamori I presume?"

He chuckles lowly and nods, "That's a good tone ya got there. You don't sound like a foreigner at all. That will help you later." He gives my hand back and gestures for me to follow. I do of course, anything to get out of this noise. Yamori has a private car for us, it's fairly nice if not a little cramped. "Mind giving me details, about you of course. I like to know who I'm doing buisness with."

"I was instructed to give as little personal information as possible, Mr. Yamori. Though my employers assured me you were already acquainted."

The man scoffed a laugh and crossed his arms. His stature might be intimidating to others but I could look him in the eye. _Father was taller, and just as broad_. No, this man does not frighten me... much. "What type of kagune do you have? How do you prefer to fight? These are thing I need to know."

To placate him, I nod once. "I was told that I'd be working alone, however it seems not to be the case? I prefer a mid range combat, relying on my koukaku only for close range attacks. My skills lie in all forms of martial combat. My weapon of choice is a bow or throwing knives."

"Hm, seems rather weak don't you think?"

"I'm an assassin by trade, Mr. Yamori. My goal is to be quick and quiet. Rushing in kagune blazing is a fast way to lose the element of surprise." He smiled at me but said no more. I was left to ponder the hazy dreams that plied my mind during the flight. I am the first step to globalizing Aogiri, and they know it. That is why I was called at all. The family's services aren't cheap, but in a rapidly expanding world, the ghoul uprising cannot be localized to one nation. There are already stirrings in other lands, mine not counted amongst them. If they can convince me, my right of succession may improve their chances greatly. My visit is just as much a political move for them as it is for me.

I will succeed as the leader. I will prove myself. I will make the wisest course of action for my people. For all of ghoul kind even. I'll see which way the wind blows and pick my sails accordingly. _Keep your cards close to your chest, dear. Don't let them know what you've got in your hands._

The city whipped by the window, humans and hidden ghouls milling about on the walkways. A young man with purple hair and headphones walks alone with a briefcase and trench coat. He's probably a dove... Did he see me? For a moment the car stopped for the light and he looked right at me... didn't he? Fear is not something I've been raised to feel, but the coldness in that young man's eyes is something else. I'm a leopard being stalked by a lion. Will I get away with my prey, or be caught? That is this feeling.

"Don't be so tense, we're almost there." Yamori's voice broke me out of contemplation and I shook my head in a vain attempt to clear it.

"My apologies. I was lost in the scenery."

"Anyway, you'll be staying in these apartments." He handed me a key. "Everything you sent ahead has already been moved in. Your cover job at the nearby mortuary starts with the night shift. You won't have to acclimate to time differences as much."

"Thank you."

Yamori grinned at me in an unsettling fashion. "Don't. Survive your first mission and then we'll talk about gratitude." He shut the door, leaving me on the sidewalk with my belongings. I couldn't stop a sigh from slipping out. Over the next year I checked in with the family once a week. I also discovered who that boy I'd seen was, Kuki Urie, son of a CCG investigator and currently enrolled in the academy. My assignments were frequent enough that I could depend on the income. My reports were always detailed and punctual. It was the only reason I'd been allowed to come, the only chance I had at securing my future. _Plan ahead for every situation._

It was late one evening when I'd been given a mission that I met the purple haired boy again, only now he was closer to being a man and a full fledge investigator with something he too wanted to prove. To say it was a tense encounter would be entirely understating things. I was returning from my assignment, having successfully killed my target from nearly 50 yards; my gear repacked and slung over my shoulder I was nearly inside the morgue for my night shift when a loud crash demanded my attention. It was him, Kuki, collapsed in the alley from an abdominal wound the size of a baseball. A nice large hole in his side. It would easily be lethal if left untreated, even to a quinex like him. Yes, I knew at once from the smell of kangune and metal around him that he was one of those 'fake ghouls' everyone had been gossiping about.

Here, I was presented with a few options, help the poor sod and let him live, pretend to help him and risk a fight to get a meal, follow him until he bled out and risk letting him get away, or leave him altogether for someone else. Those eyes still haunted me though. With a sigh through my nose I stash my gear and carefully approached the dove. He's having trouble breathing, but that is mostly due to pain. His injury looks like a flesh wound, no vitals were hit. I found it odd that he let me get so close without any hostility. His skin is... very warm and soft. Hm.

I looked into his eyes for a moment, there they were just as cold and calculating as I remember but there is something new there and I'm not sure what. "You... are you a ghoul?" I surprised myself with how well my voice quavered. Learning to act had been a good choice of high school electives.

Urie does not speak, but shakes his head no. I pretended to be nervous, to have second thoughts, but offer him my aid none the less. He's only about 5'7", shorter than me by a few inches, and he's lithe, though well built. He'd make a good meal but he feels stronger than I could handle even when injured.

I get him into an emergency bed in one of the upstairs rooms. He's already lost a lot of blood. I'm not sure why I patched him up, but I did. Still, he said nothing, nor complained or hesitated when I asked him to do things like remove his shirt or lift his arms. He didn't even require antiseptic for the stitching I've done to the wound. "There." I helped him lay down, those concentrated eyes ever on me, watching my every breath. "You'll still need to go to a hospital, but you should be stable for now. Is there someone I could contact for you?"

"Why did you help me?" There is certainly a hidden question in there. Or maybe a statement.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"You wear strawberry scented lotions but it can't hide your real scent enough. I know you're a ghoul." My throat tightened. "And you know I'm a member of the CCG, so why not kill me when you had the chance." He tried to sit up, but I pushed him back onto the bed gently.

"I have never killed a single person for food. I work at a morgue, so I needn't kill anyway. There is plenty that we do to prep the bodies for burial, such as removing organs and blood, that I can live off of well enough. I don't have to hurt anyone to survive this way." I lean back into my chair thoughtfully. None of what I've said is strictly speaking a lie. "I made an oath as a doctor to help people, no matter who they are, dove or ghoul it doesn't matter to me. So, I suppose the real question is, are you going to kill me, Kuki Urie?"

For the first time his face shows something. Shock. Wide eyed shock.

"Don't look so surprised, officer. The quinex are fairly well know, there are only so many of you. Simple deduction really." _Well, that and months of seeing you in passing_. "Will you tell me how you got injured?"

"... No."

I stood, not wanting to linger. There is no doubt that I'll have to flee now. Unless the officer falls asleep from exhaustion or anemia so I can kill him, he'll go to the CCG first thing. My cover is blown, how troublesome.

* * *

To this day, I don't know why I let him live. But ever since we've been playing a game of cat and mouse, the lion stalking me through the grass at every turn. Occasionally I'd find a tree to rest in, but there would always be a need to move on and the lion would find me again. On this night, he chases me all the way to a roof top, this time the lion climbs the tree too. I'm cornered, but still, I can finally fight. His borrowed koukaku against my koukaku, two proud warriors fighting for their lives in a seemingly endless struggle. We wound each other, try to kill each other, and for what? Another scrap of dawn? My future is still ahead of me but what is he trying to prove? Why does the lion fight? What is he thinking right now?

As it nears the end, I throw him off of me, he grips the railing, but exhaustion and blood loss are setting in, just as when I first saved him. His hand is slipping, my lion falls. I should be happy that the pursuit is over, but... I'll never see those dark thoughtful eyes again, nor puzzle out the thoughts behind them. As my lion fell I knew, my movement is instinctual. I leap from the roof and dive for him. A fall from this height would kill something so fragile as a human. My arms wrap around his waist, pulling him against me. For some reason, I take note that he is still smaller than me as I position the fall so I will strike the ground. My grip tightens and I brace myself for the crushing feeling along my spine. I hit my kagune first, damaging it. It will take days of rest to recover fully if I ever can. Ah, now I've done it. I went and threw everything away without thinking ahead. I didn't hold my hand and my peace. Father will be so disappointed.

Urie pushed himself up with a grunt, clearly hurt from the impact as well, but much less so than me. I stare into those eyes again, those cold eye shining with something I do not understand in the slightest. It bothers me, the way those dark pools seem to draw me in. I can't look away but there are mysteries within that I'm desperate to solve. Since when did the leopard look forward to seeing their lion? I don't understand.

It is a sentiment we share it seems. "You saved me again. Why?"

This time it is my turn not to answer, placing a hand over the old scar of that wound I stitched so many months ago. _Months? Had it only been a few months? It felt like he's been chasing my tail for years, my lion._

"Lion?"

Ah, I must have said that out loud. "Sorry, it's what I've taken to calling you recently. Urie is a relentless hunter after all."

His hands closed over my wrists, pinning them to the blood splattered concrete. "That doesn't answer my question, ghoul."

I leaned forward and whispered a name in his ear, my real name. "It means 'lone wanderer'; appropriate, don't you think? I suppose, I've just been trying to understand some things. I have an ambition, I need to prove myself to the family, to be useful. Honestly, since I met you, I've forgotten the reason. Maybe it's your eyes, they have an odd effect on me..."

He seemed taken aback by my bluntness at least.

"You have an ambition too, right? I wonder if that is the source of that captivating light. If not than what could it be?"

"You aren't the least bit worried you're about to die? Or even be captured?"

"... No, I don't think so." I shifted my waist to get more comfortable, honestly I don't think he realized the position we're in. "We played these games long enough that I know you, Kuki. There is no honor or sport in killing a ghoul that can't fight back, isn't there?"

He remained quite, deathly so, for another breath and I can see his mind turning. It such an enticing sight. I still cannot tell what he is thinking. Then he glanced down, and color briefly rushed into his face. Ah, he must have realized it now. When his eyes lock on mine again, and the staring match continues I'm left to ponder his intention. Will he summon his kagune and... end me?

No, he leaned in, his lips on mine. Oh, he tastes sweet, I like it. A warmth I'm not familiar with hisses through my body and I... What did I just swallow? I cough when he finally pulls back. "Heh, you even taste like strawberries."

I want to retort but my mind is... sluggish. My head feels funny and I just can't... He drugged me? How, I don't- When he looked down did he do something? I... I-

I passed out...

My face is pressed against something soft that smells like him, my lion. The feeling of a sheet over my legs. There are bandages over my shoulders and back where they impacted the ground. My shirt is gone. I do my best to stretch carefully. This is a room I don't recognize. Daylight streaming in the open balcony door, the room has a few harsher paint smells and a canvas. It looks like a studio apartment, but there is plantlife just beyond the open door.

I sit up, escape pressing in my chest when a quite gloved hand wraps around my throat from behind. Hmph, I must be losing my edge not to hear him coming, my lion. The leopard was taken to the lion's den. I was not 'eaten,' how strange. I let my body relax but make no move to go anywhere. "Good ghoul." The lion purrs in my ear, a shudder running up my spine and warmth replacing it on the way down. What is it? Why? I still don't understand. "You are in my custody right now, the CCG is willing to give you a slack chain for the time being so long as you cooperate and are helpful. Follow my orders to the letter and I'll keep you out of Cochlea for a while longer. Understood?"

"Yes."

* * *

I lived for several more months, a dog on a leash following or heeling at the lion's behest. Life was not good per say, but I was still alive. I would not stay that way, however. All ghouls will eventually be killed, and my kagune was powerful enough, being deemed a SS-rank ghoul for my abilities, that they harvested me. The human I was placed in as a quinex has an extraordinarily weak will. It took less than a month for my koukaku to overpower her and now her body is mine. I still feel everything she felt with every memory she had, but I retain my own thoughts, my own mind. The CCG did not know about my family's mutation. Though mine is to a much lesser extent, one could say the clan has similar regenerative powers as Noro. It would be wrong, but close enough. The truth being, we have more control over the cells our kagune forms, I created and isolated all the neurological connections of my mind as a DNA pattern in my kagune. I preserved my own consciousness. Now, I have a new body, a new life.

The lion is my captain though he doesn't yet realize it is me.

"The new recruit is acting a little strange don't you think? I mean, she was super shy before and it's been, what, five weeks. Now she strutting about like she owns the place. It's unsightly."

"I don't think it's that odd really. Watanabe-kun was top of her class if a little reserved. Now that she's a quinex it might have boosted her self confidence. I'm not disagreeing about the irritation the upstart is giving us, but is it really that strange?"

"She started using different pronouns. Her pattern of speech shifted nearly overnight! And her eyes..."

"Yeah, that is kind of creepy."

Urie burst into the kitchen while they were talking, I was in the exercise room down the hall pretending to listen to music. The perks of being a sensory type ghoul, though I suppose I am technically human now? I could picture the glare my lion must be giving them for the others to fall so silent. "If you have time to be running your mouths, you should be working on your stamina."

The three of them ran in shortly after, or well the two ran in and Urie walked calmly. My mentor, my lion, was holding two cups of coffee, walking over to me and setting one down where I could reach it. He had a very neutral smile in his eyes, that same quiet power still there every time I looked at them. No, I still couldn't tell what he was thinking. The treadmill powers off when I step down, plucking out the earbuds I don't need anymore. "Thank you, lion."

The shift in his face is immediate, gone is the smile from his gaze, replaced by an intense stare. He's studying my every breath again. My face bares the loose grin now as I go to leave the room. "It seems, we'll be saving each others lives a lot more frequently, hu?" I can still feel those dark eyes on me as I leave. It's funny that he's so surprised. I drink from the cup he gave me, humming in delight. Coffee still tastes the same. I enjoy the flavors I couldn't have before, but my favorite is still my lion. To bad I probably won't taste that sweetness again.

Just like before, my lion pursued me, I grinned back at him and bolted, let him chase me again. A laugh bubbled up from my throat and I nearly ran into Seiko, vaulting over her at the last second. Urie stumbled and I could hear him growl, oh such a terrible sound. It sent my heart racing. I dodged around the kitchen to drop my cup and out into the sunlight of the thin woods behind the chateau. I got as far as the small brooke when Urie's arms caged around my middle and we both tumbled to the ground.

He was giving me such a fierce glare, but I couldn't stop laughing. "Don't look so surprised, officer." My fingers curled into the loose fabric on his arms, my smile fading as I lost myself in those eyes. We were both breathing heavily. His scent making my mind buzz with every inhale. That foreign warmth was back, wreaking havoc over my spine. Muscles in my abdomen tightened as well. "My lion has caught me again, it seems. Before, I could out run you at least."

"How is this possible?" His hands went around my slender throat and he held me down. I didn't fight, the male on top of me was bigger than I now. "What did you do to Watanabe, ghoul?"

"I have a name and you know it. I haven't done anything to her, the procedure the CCG did killed her mind, I simply took her place. I still remember everything from both of us. Her family doesn't need to know."

For a tense moment it seemed like he was going to throttle me, but then his hands relaxed. "I thought you were gone for good."

"So did I." My hand traces over the scar still on his side. "I'm glad though. I can still see your eyes."

With an aggravated sigh he dropped on top of me, arms cradling my shoulders against his chest. "Why are you so obsessed with my eyes?"

"They are the windows to your soul. I can see your mind working when I look at them. Really, it fascinates me. I can't ever figure out what you're thinking." I hug him back, taking in that smell that is so him. "I feel things I don't understand, but I want to know. I need to know what it means. I want to keep feeling this warmth."

He pulls back, I think for a moment that he's going to leave and it hurts for some reason. But no, he is kissing me again. Ah, the flavor I crave is back and I desperately want it. My hands are in his soft hair, down the back of his neck. Finally we break for air. I'm flushed and so is he. My lion smiles. "You still taste like strawberries."


	9. The Blue Ember Cafe (BEAnE)

**Ao no Exorsist 10+ years after the amine conclusion. Most likely going to be a one shot, who knows. THERE IS NO SHIP HERE, JUST FLUFFY SAD BROTHERS AND SHIZ. Also Trigger warning for mention of depression and character death. ((I have not proofread this yet))**

* * *

The shop's chime tingled in the brunette ears. This space never really seemed to change no matter how many times he came here, from the cafe's opening to present day it still had that brand new glamor with a home worn charm. Yukio found the atmosphere relaxing. Ah, how long has it been really? Let's see, the End Crisis happened when they were fifteen and he's twenty-nine now. Over a decade, hu? Man he feels old. Of course listening to his new students chatter really reinforced that notion.

The exorcist let his eyes trace over the gold-painted crown molding and the light and sulfur blue accents in the art and upholstery. Blue was the standard color motif for this place after all, traditional styled art on the walls slowly flowing into more modern landscape the closer the murals got to the kitchen until it was just this wall painted in blue flames. The lighting had been expertly done to make them seem to shimmer as one moved about. How often has he seen that illusion and how long has it been since he was last here?

"Excuse me, sir?" The host was a scrawny kid of sixteen with wild bleached hair. The clear mark of piercings he no doubt had to remove for work marring what could have been a respectable face. The half demon fixed his teal eyes on the youth. Judging by the slight updates to the uniform it seem Rin was still in the habit of making improvements. "Are you going to tell me where to seat you or not?"

Yukio cocked an eyebrow. Did Rin not mention he was coming to his staff? "Actually I'm here to see the chef, if he is in?"

"Boss isn't takin' any visitors."

The exorcist crossed his arms thoughtful. "I'll sit at the bar then, and I already know my order. 'The Shrine Special', yes I'm aware there isn't such a thing on the menu," He preemptively cut off the young man's complaint that he could just see in his ash-green eyes. "Rin will know it when he sees it." Neither did he wait for an escort, taking his usual seat at the bar and placing the briefcase he carried beneath the counter at his feet.

This end perch had a small glance into the back rooms, including a stairwell that lead to the apartment above where Rin lived. One of the older cooks took the order from the host, who was complaining loudly, and his eyes slowly widened. Yukio couldn't hear exactly what the cook said, but he did see the man yank on the boy's ear and whisper-yell something at him to the extent the host looked thoroughly chastised.

That same cook, order clenched in his hand, hurriedly ascended the steps to knock on Rin's door. Yukio turned his gaze to the menu, curious what other edibles could be ordered on the given day. Apparently Rin did all the cooking on Friday evening and the weekends, making them even busier. His older twin really developed a name for himself in the culinary world to the point he'd seen the Ember Cafe in several tourist pamphlets for small regional 'must visit' locations.

When Yukio glanced up again, a man who looked to be in his late twenties, early thirties shuffled down the steps in a pair of simple khaki shorts a tight fit black v-neck. The loose tumble of shaggy black-blue hair and piercing blue eyes added to his abnormally striking features. Despite the tidy-unkept dichotomy of his look, Rin was still devastatingly handsome. Yukio quirked a grin at his twin. It seemed all his brother needed to be the ladies man was a few more years to mature. Certainly they grew apart as far as the physical went. Yukio himself was still very lithe and his hair had lightened some, still very pale. Rin had filled out more, even despite not working as an exorcist anymore. His shoulders were just broad enough to be noticeably wider when they were together, and of course he had bluer eyes and retained his demonic features, such as the tail while Yukio's had gone away with treatment and concentration.

He frowned slightly seeing the unlit cigarette lightly pinched in his brother's lips. There had been a few spats and sticking points between them, the smoking being one of them. They locked eye and Rin snorted, a look on his face that Yukio might have been able to decipher at one point. The elder twin vanished from his view, only to come out into the cafe proper with two steaming plates and an irritated grin on his face.

"Four-eyes."

"Delinquent."

"What's the big idea making me cook on my day off, jerk." Rin placed the dishes down gently on the counter and dropped onto the stool next to him. The older twin already picking at the food before him.

He looked... thinner, and an unhealthy kind of pale. "Rin, are you-"

"I'm fine," the elder muttered around a mouthful of food.

"... I'm sorry. I've been putting strain on you, haven't I?" Yukio picked up his fork and stuffed a bite in his mouth, nearly crying at how good it tasted. Nostalgia washed up and down his spine and a sense of peace he's long since missed settled into his ribs.

Rin just looked at him oddly before glancing around the nearly empty cafe. Apparently it wasn't empty enough for his liking and he stood, dish in hand and shrugged towards the back. Yukio stood as well, taking the silent direction to gather his things and follow his twin back upstairs.

The appartment was... much cleaner than he'd expected. Kuro, or rather the black shelter cat Rin had taken in and named in honor of the cat sidth's memory, lay sprawled out on the couch in a sunny patch. The entire space had a significant amount of natural light which was surprising for its location. Rin lead him into a small kitchen and dining space combined. Though it made sense to have a small kitchenette style upstairs with the full sized one downstairs. All in all, it was nicer than his place. That was something worth smiling about. Here's to not having to worry!

Well, not worry much, Yukio was always going to worry about Rin. But... he can't turn a blind eye to this.

"How long have you been doing this to yourself, Nii-san?"

Rin looked away, a frown gracing his features. "I'm not even sure I remember anymore."

Yukio sighed through his nose and place the food aside, pulling out his case and opening it. "Possession like this can kill you y'know."

"I know."

Yukio took Rin right arm with a grunt and tied off the vein, needle pre-sterilized and most everything ready. He gave it a testing squirt just until the liquid bubbled up so there was no air. The doctor-dragoon lined up the shot carefully as always. "Are you really willing to do all of this just for h-"

"Yes." There wasn't a hint of hesitation in Rin's voice only his eyes didn't burn with determination, they were dull. Dull with resignation. Rin alway had issues with depression and anxiety, though he was very good at hiding them. Being an exorcist was arguable the best thing that happened to him. But, even in all of that Rin could never stay happy for very long. It was almost a relief when both of them had that breakdown, when they just couldn't keep up the walls. The whole thing was cathartic.

Yukio stuck the needle into Rin's arm, watching his twin's face contort in agony at the potion hissing through his blood.

And all it had taken was for all their friends to die. Sad that this couldn't happen sooner, sad that they both lost everything all over again, sad that their demon blood remained a curse even after their biological father left them be.

"That one lasted longer." Rin voice was tight.

"Yeah."

"I don't want to keep doing this, seeing each other only for this shit." Rin had taken his unlit cigarette between his teeth to eat, replacing it now that the minor muscle spasms have stopped. His face flushing slightly as his body naturally heated up to burn off the energy build up in his system.

"It's what the VAtican ordered in exchange for letting you alone after you left."

Rin snorted and rolled his eyes. "You say that every time."

"It doesn't make it less true." He sighed and placed a hand on his twin's shoulder."She misses seeing you, y'know. Every time I come home it's 'When is uncle going to visit us, daddy?' She has such vivid memories of us together, as a family. I don't want Emi to grow up with just memories and hollow dreams, Rin."

"I'm just too dangerous, Yuki, and she's so... fragile, so little. I- I just-"

Yukio gripped his twin's shoulder and stared into those crystal-like blue eyes. "You aren't Satan."

"How do you know that?"

Honestly he was a little taken aback, just watching the way Rin crumbled in on himself; the shaky hand gripping the fabric on his sides, both brother's painfully aware of the sins branded into Rin's back.

"You are not Satan, you are my brother, my twin, my other half. I know you down to your soul Rin. You are kind and brave and bold, bullheaded and ingenuitive. You're a natural leader and you just care so much about everyone that sometimes it hurts because it reminds me that I am petty and jealous of the love you have for everyone." Yukio's brow pinched together slightly as he cleaned Rin's forearm, leaning his head against his older twin's shoulder. "If anyone is like him it's me."

"Nah, you're a better father, and a healer on top of that... We- We're more like mom, hu?"

"I guess so..."

A tense, yet comfortable silence stretched between them. The food having gone cold in their mutual contemplation and enjoyment just being together. Like old time, shoulder to shoulder the summoner-knight and the doctor-dragoon. Teachers in their own right, each mentors to the younger generation in their respective fields. Kuro even came by to get in on the cuddling, both of them absentmindedly petting the small fluffball.

Rin broke the silce, bringing real life back upon the stillness. "I can't go back to the True Cross, Yuki. I just can't."

Yukio slid his hand into Rin's, noting how much rougher his twin's hands were than his own, the slight gleam of his wedding band a stark contrast to Rin's black remembrance ring. "I know. I know."

"Not all stories have a happy ending then, though I guess that's just how the world works."

Yukio turned their intertwined hands over, observing the subtle differences that marked where Rin started and he ended. "Should I bring them here for Christmas? It's been awhile since we had a proper birthday party together."

A slight smile twitched at the corner of Rin's mouth. "I would like that. Heh, hell bring the students too. I'll cook us all something great!"

Yukio also smiled, glad to hear that old spark in his brother's voice, a bit of life coming back to those blue eyes. Christmas couldn't get here fast enough.


End file.
